I Am Just A Simple Murderer
by divide and conquer
Summary: An excerpt from the Harry Potter role-playing community pensieverpg greatestjournal.com featuring Remus Lupin


**Title:** I Am Just A Simple Murderer

**Authors:** Anna & D

**Timeframe:** AU, August of 1997

**Summary:** An excerpt from the Harry Potter role-playing game **pensieve(underscore)rpg** at greatestjournal.com featuring Remus Lupin

The soft tapping on marble floors came from numerous busy witches and wizards' hurrying to their appointments and such while one woman of mysterious intrigue made her way out of the facility. She was unlike most 'creatures' the Ministry had seen, but then again they were used to seeing all sorts in their midst daily. Muggle eye glasses, pitch black, they shed her blue eyes from all who stared at her as she left, therefore no one would know if she was looking at him or her or if she even acknowledged the stares she received. As she made her leave, her ice-cold aura lingered just a bit, it was certain that something was up to no good. Her heels clicked on the concrete sidewalk as she passed the unknowing people. She continued with her long stride, far away from where she came from. Not too far were a variety of others, dressed similar to the way she was. A sleek black outfit or suit. They did not acknowledge one another but it was certain they each had some sort of connection. As the woman made her way down the street, out of her pocket she pulled out a device, something as small as a muggle cell phone. She held it close to her ear, deceiving many with her innocent look and quiet chatter. A smirk played upon painted lips, little did they know, a button had been pressed behind her mane of blonde hair. She acted as if a goodbye was said and continued to walk, only this time into a corner shop. Which was very much a dark room with several others inside. Many were the men trailing her but a few minutes ago. They exchanged words, nodded and smirks formed. She titled her head and walked out the door opposite the room into a secluded alleyway. Suddenly, something brightly colored was tossed onto the ground along with the small device. A wig! It was nothing more than a blonde wig. The female let loose her fiery red mane and slipped out a thin strip of engraved wood out of her sleeve. Something was muttered under her breath and the wig went up in flames along with the device. All was accomplished. She made way out of the alley, just in time to balance herself against the wall as the floor began to rumble.

A tired, age-less looking man made his way through crowds of people, seemingly in a rush. Remus was constantly cursing himself for how utterly late he was - he was supposed to be at this meeting twenty minutes ago! It wasn't his fault that he slept in. It wasn't his fault that time zones in Japan were so far off than those in England. However, it was his fault for not being able to push through the people in his way to get to The Ministry of Magic quicker; it just wasn't polite to shove.

And yet, as time passed along with the numerous muggles, half bloods, and others in all forms of shapes, and disguises - something wasn't right. A sense of foreboding seemed to wash over the werewolf; maybe it was the gloomy sky above, or maybe it was his werewolf senses, or maybe it was the feeling of the ground rumbling below him.

Time slowed, and whilst others began to scream and run away, Remus stood his ground in shock and horror. The ground shook more chaotically, and soon a vast wall of red, orange, and yellow flew into the sky, contrasting viciously against the light grey which enveloped those who were not being swallowed by hell's flames. _This can't be happening... it just can't be..._

The fiery devil herself braced her hands along the brick wall of her hidden alley as she silenced a wicked laugh. Even from as far 300 or so yards she could see the colors of destruction right from where she stood. It was not time for her to play the nice witch and investigate what happened. She prepared herself for her act, as if in a rush. A crowd rushed past the alleyway, she was enveloped in darkness; they would not see her even if they were paying attention, too afraid, so desperate to escape death. She was the Angel of Death herself. A wicked smile danced on her painted lips once more before a frown formed and her eyebrows furrowed. She ran out and towards the Ministry. Gwendolyn Sinistra had just arrived to examine the damage she had done. With a nod to several esteemed Death Eaters she pushed herself through the crowd, the sound of several sirens ringing in her ear as she inched towards the tunnel of black smoke.

The screams of those around him hurt his sensitive ears, people shoving past him no doubt left bruises when shoulders, elbows, and heads butted into him. And yet, it all seemed so surreal, as if he were watching everything through someone else's eyes. Remus would have noted the inconspicuous group of Death Eaters loitering about, that is, he would if he could have taken his eyes off of the rising smoke. A wave of terror ran over him and seemed to fill his very blood, burning like venom; the smoke was rising from The Ministry of Magic.

The sirens rang, but they seemed to be moving farther and farther away, rather than moving toward the destruction. The Ministry of Magic, destroyed, annihilated, obliterated, irrecoverable, lost. Names began to rush through his mind; faces; people; friends, teammates, Aurors, curse-breakers, mothers, fathers, children...

Their faces, memories of them, thoughts of the consequences of this one event were quickly swiped clear as a green light invaded his vision and through the flames came a shape, a sign of which he had never wanted to see ever again; a sign that only meant one thing; Darkness had come again after a year of silence.  
"Lord Voldemort... no... it can't be..."

"But who else would you expect..." a lucid voice called from her side. It caught her attention, eyes narrowed in a deadly glare. She hissed in a snake like tone. "Quiet you fool!" the cowardly Death Eater backed away, sinking deeper into the crowd of elder Death Eaters. Hopefully they will show her how to hold her tongue. Those same eyes diverted to the person, which caused the silent outburst. They widen, _No! It can't be._ Foul werewolf, he should have died in the explosion, she raged inside; failure was not an option. It was only a minor set back, she tried to reason. It would be taken cared of soon. A sneer threatened to form; she bit her lower lip to keep such from happening. Eyes darted to the group and as if telepathically she sent out orders just by a mere glare. They scattered in separate directions, it is best to be safe than sorry after all. The Ministry of Magic was no more; threat number one was eliminated now it was time to finish off the Order. Pick them off one by one -- STOP! A mental command, Gwen ceased her thoughts of destruction. It was time to play the good girl again. Remus seemed too engross with the tunnel of smoke before him to notice her, even with her flaming hair. What a fool, sufficing another laugh. Slipping behind muggle after muggle she made her way slyly to him. Time for a chat, professor-to-professor; colleague-to-colleague and most importantly, killer to victim.

This couldn't be happening. Not again. Lord Voldemort and his followers had once more done their deadliest deed and killed, murdered, slaughtered. Once more, he should have been with them, and yet, his lateness on this one day saved him from a fiery death in a huge crater in muggle London. As Gwen made her way toward him, he took a few steps forward, moving closer and closer to the crater's edge; eyes moving from the Skull and Snake in the sky to the smoking ground below; it was an impressive drop to the bottom, the bottom of which he couldn't see. How could they have done this? This was not their form of killing. And yet, it was all really happening, right? Or was it some nightmare?

No. A nightmare would have included each of his friends dying again. James dying for Lily; Lily dying for Harry; Sirius dying for Harry and himself. Through smoke, fire, and ashes, Remus gazed, blankly at first, but soon learning to focus again as the smoke's sting began to affect him too much to ignore again. Someone must have survived.

The werewolf looked left and right, some form of debris must have fallen, toppling into the instable ground beside it; something must have made a pathway into the crater; "There's always a survivor. There has to be." He muttered to himself, though once he spoke, Remus found himself unable to move again as the Skull's gaze fell upon him; little did he know that he was the only lone survivor of this catastrophe, the only one who had survived when his death was set to have been with all of his companions. "Why is this happening...?"  
  
As she hid behind a scared little mouse of a fellow, she watched the former marauder gaze hopelessly into the bottomless pit that is hell. She watched his dry lips mutter words of some profound insanity. No one was alive, no survivors, no nothing, they were all dead she replied under her breath. It seemed like she was trying to convince herself rather than Remus. More words were muttered, she didn't have the slightest clue as to what they were but time was running short. She needed to do something, get rid of the mutt. Anything. And suddenly she wished she hadn't disbanded the group, she could sorely use their assistance right about now. Eyes glanced from left to right, in hopes for spotting a brother or sister to help her. They truly scattered; imbeciles. She seethed, the one time she wished they hadn't followed orders is the one time she most desperately needed him. Now was not a time to be sporadic, now was the time to think her actions clearly and thoroughly. They've eliminated the Prongs and Padfoot, only Moony stood in their way while the insufferable Wormtail spent his time being tortured for fun. How sad and pitiful. Like a serpent, she moved stealthy from person to person, lingering, wavering in and out of the crowd drawing nearer and nearer to the poor werewolf. He was mourning, his body should be weak and her shove should catch him off guard. He should fall into the well and die with his filthy mudblood and mudblood lovers, she thought. She could almost hear his startled cry, as he would be pushed down to the fiery pit. She could almost see his arms flailing in the hot air and she could envision the glorious look upon her face as his eyes would stare up at her glass from the smoke, the emotion of shock embedded in those dark pupils. Not the world's most ingenious plan but it was one to bring an end to a nuisance maybe. Behind him, once more hidden behind someone else she took a shove. A dominos effect she hoped for, the man in front of her would knock over Remus and then her job would be done, with a bonus of another dead muggle.

His quickly beating heart skipped a beat as someone fell into him; it was something he should have expected, but quite frankly, a shove so forceful from another who seemed even more panicked and frightened than he could not have possibly been expected, not so soon, and not so close to the edge of the crater. Luckily, he was just enough steps away to catch himself and the other man before they both fell into was appeared to be a bottomless pit. Pale hands quickly grabbed the muggle as he through the nameless man back and he too leapt back before a chunk of the earth underneath him crumbled away and fell, in his stead, into the smoke and fire.

When Remus looked back to the man, he uttered a quick 'thanks' before he ran off, as far away as he could get from the edge -- his life undoubtedly meant much more to him now than the others who had met their demise no more than three minutes ago. "You're welcome." The werewolf muttered to himself as he looked back to the crater before he could lay eyes fully upon Gwen's face; though her red hair triggered another face in his mind, another name: Arthur Weasley; he was set to be at that meeting today as well. "Oh Merlin above..." He uttered quickly before he turned to his left and began pushing through the crowd, searching for something, searching for a way to get in. Arthur Weasley has survived assassination attempts before, and he could do it again. Right? He had to be alive. He couldn't die on his family, not now, not when they needed him most.

Within a few seconds that felt like half an hour to his shocked mind, Remus finally found a toppled frame from one of the nearby buildings; it lead a safe enough path into the crater -- it didn't look all that safe, but it was enough -- and as carefully as he could, the werewolf began his decent into the still smoking pit, a shiver running up his spine as the green light of the Dark Mark in the sky illuminated the annihilated area even more so.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, he did not seem to notice she might have been the one that pushed the muggle. Nor did she quite care; he didn't notice and that was all that matter obviously. That her identity as a Death Eater was not exposed, that she was still a faithful Dumbledore lover and ect. She scowled; hoping for a semi confrontation with her former co-worker, he left is a sort of hurry. Her hair whipped around her perspiration-lined face, the heat was almost unbearable. And as the fire fighters made their way to water down the hellhole, policemen were rounding up the muggles. As several wizards slipped passed them with charms and enchantments, Gwen stood rooted in her spot only for a moment. She saw it all through water eyes, the smoke had caused tears to form, not the ridiculous feeling of guilt. "Guilt", she muttered, "is a fickle thing." Turning away as a crowd dashed passed her with a water hose; she made her way in the same direction as Remus. She was going to make sure he died down there one way or another, she was determined. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a brother, they made contact and with that same power before he knew what to do. High heels and all, she stood upon the fallen wall and climbed down. Shattered glass, melted and stuck to each piece. Charred bones from the misfortunate who happened to be outside the Ministry. She laughed to herself and looked above. He was coming and happened to bring a sister along. Below she glances into the steam. Where was he? She pondered before her heel hit the molted floor. It was somewhat soft, almost melted, she did not know and could not see. Her eyes peered beyond the smoke but ended up in a fit. A small hand moved to cover over her mouth. What on earth was she doing down their anyways? A wand slipped from under her sleeve, she conjured something that blew the smoke only so far away from her but it slowly drifted back in time. "REMUS. You crazy bastard. WHERE ARE YOU?!"  
  
"REMUS. You crazy bastard. WHERE ARE YOU?!" The smoke was almost intolerable, and the way his eyes watered from both said smoke and the sight around him made Remus wish that he could simply return to that voice and leave this hellhole; but something kept him from doing so; some minute hope that at least Arthur had survived this, or that Tonks, or someone else from the Order was running late, or forgot about the meeting. Maybe Arthur was sick? Maybe he was safe at home with his children. And yet, after a few seconds of careful walking and making sure that his mouth was covered and that as little smoke got into his lungs as possible, the werewolf finally reached the deepest part of the crater. The Ministry.

"This can't be happening..." He muttered to himself, quickly moving his sleeve from his mouth to wipe away the tears that were welling up in his eyes; the smoke was getting to be too much; he'd pass out if he stayed much longer. "I'm here..." Remus muttered softly at first, amber eyes glued upon the ash and rubble that was once The Ministry of Magic, the place where he had worked for so long. "I'm here Gwendolyn!" The werewolf called, finally at a hearable level before, wincing slightly when he realized how sore and agitated his throat felt; that wasn't as good sign. None of this was. "Please say that this is a dream.. please..."

His pleads were unheard of by Gwen, she had no compassion for the dead and treaded upon the molten land as if it was a simple walk in the park. The smoke, as overwhelming as it was, it was not a nuisance to her as of yet. With a brother and sister from her circle by her side she signaled them, the hazy dark smoke concealed their identity as well as hers. If they died in combat then it would not be a loss. The irrational female was disposable; sooner or later she probably would cause them trouble in the future. As for the male, he was branded but a few weeks ago, a coward and traitor to his own family, a muggleborn who saw it fit to be a coward. How amusing. She heard his call and walked towards it. It was hard to navigate in the dark fog of death and soon she would end up forgetting where his voice came from. She called out again, "REMUS! I can't see you, walk towards my voice!"" followed by a fit of coughs. They would die down there if they don't get out soon. In the distance the muggle firefighters sounded like they were just getting ready to lower their men down when already grown witches and wizards were already searching. There was no meaning to their search, looking for those who were already gone. Fools. Mourners are irrational; mourners will suffocate in the smoke, good riddance then.

"Remus! Where are you!?"

The last thing he wanted to do then was walk towards Gwen, or anyone for that matter; he wanted to continue his search, even though he knew it was in vain. The werewolf flinched a little when something began falling from the sky, but luckily, it was just rain -- initially he'd thought it might be something else; perhaps blood falling from victims being blown into the sky. Remus paused as he tried to think where he could have gotten that idea: too many years on the losing side of the war, most likely.

The werewolf shook his head of the thought and looked about, glad to see the smoke clearing slightly due to the rain. To the left, firemen were beginning their search and were helping in the effort to control the fires about; to the right, witches and wizards, like himself, were searching for any survivors. Even though he had just heard her voice, however, he saw no sign of Gwen. He didn't have time to think about that. But then again, what was there to think about? Everyone he knew was set to be at the meeting, and now they were all dead.

Remus looked about again for Gwen, but again, there seemed to be no sign of her. It didn't help matters much that the smoke was making it all too hard for him to breathe, let alone call out to someone. A slight rush of fear ran through him when he realized just how dangerous of a matter this now was; smoke veiling his whereabouts, unable to call for help... any number of things could happen. _I need to get out of here._ He finally convinced himself as he took a few steps back, away from the even deeper, gaping, fiery hole that was once The Ministry of Magic amidst the crater that wiped out the lives of hundreds of other witches, wizards, and muggles alike.

Cold rain poured from the 'heavens' above and Gwen cursed the weather. So inappropriate and appropriate at the same time. Like tears for the dead the rain poured and poured, clearing out the smoke, dousing the flames and lending a hand to those who thought there was any chance of anyone surviving. They would find none; they would find body parts and charred bones but no survivors. Gwen and her team made sure no one would live to tell this day. While Remus believed that he was unseen and hidden by the declining fog, she, however could see his outline clearly standing alone by the pit of hell. With her flaming red hair it would only be a matter of time before he would spot her and her company. Therefore she quickly dragged her triumvirate behind a burning wall, charred bones beneath them and all. Like the kind soul she was, a heel came down on the bones and crushed them to ashes. The girl snickered and mimicked the action, which earned her a quick slap to the face. "Listen you wretch, both of you. Attack him and kill him, I will be here watching." She looked over the wall again, his back was turned towards them; his eyes must be trained on the death pit. So many lives claimed, all in the name of purity and Voldemort. Their goal was to purify the wizarding race, the pureblood population was declining, and it was their job to make sure it didn't. "Attack now, KILL him. And remember, don't fuck up."

So many killed. It was strange to stand there, looking at a place that he had been no more than a week ago; people smiling, passing him by, giving him their best wishes for full moons, people asking him if he'd learnt of anything that may help them find a cure... all of them destroyed. "I should have been with them." The werewolf muttered solemnly to himself.

The rain continued to fall, heavier and heavier, though he only took notice after he finally broke his gaze from the pit and looked around. Remus used his sleeve to clear off most of the ash from his face. It was a little easier to breath now, but when he tried to say something, anything above a whisper; nothing came. Rain fell; people screamed at the sight of limbs, bones, and skulls; firemen shouted at people to get out of the way; footsteps marched closer.

Footsteps. Debris being crushed by two human feet. One lighter than the other. A male and a female. The male was clumsy on his feet, whilst the female seemed to have a more confident stride. It was times like this that he was glad to have a heightened sense of hearing. Thus, once the footsteps stopped, Remus turned to face the two. Black hoods drawn, faces veiled in shadow, wands in hand; the green light above danced upon them and reflected upon the falling drops of water; a shiver ran up his spine.

"So, you've finally realized your fatal error, have you? 'Come to finish the job and eliminate the pesky werewolf?"

Too far away to hear the words said, Gwen continued to stand behind the fallen wall, watching with a keen interest in what would happen. Deep inside she hoped that they would fail just so she could do the deed herself. Imagine the credit it'd give her, to eliminate the last Marauder alive and standing. It would win her a prize spot at the right hand of Lord Voldemort himself, he would be pleased. Taking out Harry Potter's last link to his past and break him like the little boy that he was. Eyes glimmered at the thought of being in such a high position of power. Power; there was no good and evil but only power. Too much and it corrupts.

Irrational and weak, the girl sneered at Remus, "But of course Sir, I hope you realized your fatal error. Too late now to reprehend it after all, we've come to slaughter you like a lamb." She sneered, showing off her pretty pearly whites, a menacing look about her eyes. A stupid girl, never one to think anything thoroughly. Her companion, the man, well built, tall and homely. One would never suspect him a Death Eater but cowards flee to the winning side always. And evil will always prevail. Every time the Light gains an ally, the Dark gains five more. Their original numbers were small at first but they grew into a monstrous army of hundreds of thousands. Their little confrontation was meet with the nonchalant and somewhat apathetic look upon Lupin's face; it angered the girl, who proceeded to pounce on him. The man took a step back, letting his partner stupidly jump into a suicide trap.

Gwen watched intently through hooded eyes, things were going moderately fair. They fell for the trap immediately and the plan was going exactly the way she had hoped it would. Looks like she'd be able to kill the mutt herself after all.

The girl's words meant nothing to him, the only thing that did phase him was how young her voice sounded -- she was too young to be murdering and killing others without a care, without a whim. Was Voldemort so desperate for allies that he would recruit children? What a sad life that creature must live. However, soon enough, with a quick glance to the silent man, the girl tried to pounce him -- their weights were not matched, and the girl was a lot lighter than he. A mere three steps away from the second fiery crater. What would Sirius or James do in this case?

No time to think. The girl's pounce knocked him a step back; in a split second, his hands grabbed her around the waist and the werewolf pried her off. Another split second passed before he closed his eyes and threw her into the flames of the death pit beside them. "Like a lamb." Remus muttered quickly, looking away from the falling girl and to the other man. Now he would be a different story if it came to mindless tackling. Thus, he quickly drew his wand and said, "You should have just ignored my presence and presumed me dead." Remus muttered to the other before feeling his heart skip a beat as two more words escaped him, "_Avada Kedavra._"

And as the words carried upon the air, another green light filled the area and hit the nameless Death Eater, ripping and tearing his soul from his body. Three seconds. Three mere seconds and his entire life was over, leaving his face with the well-known look of horror and utter terror and his body in the middle of Dark Lord's most successful attack upon the side that feared to even speak his real name.

" . . . Like a lamb" butchered at the block in no more than a mere few seconds, dead, fresh meat. Gone, just as she predicted, the girl's irrational behavior was also quite predicable. Gwen watched the second's long event through dark eyes, half hooded and coated with amusement. As she predicted, the fools were the ones slaughtered, two less soldiers but two less reasons to go down in flames. They would have caused problems sooner or later, she was doing her brotherhood a favor in ridding a nuisances. Now she could take down the werewolf on her own time and terms. Slowly, gradually, she would kill him with an agonizing torture. She could relish his cries, screams and pleas for mercy or even a quick death. Torture, she would love to torture him to death; blood gushing slowly burning through his skin and scarring his soul. And the best thing about it would be more power for her, as she would take a place by His side. An heir to the Dark Lord's throne maybe? Hopefully. As the blinding green light matched that of the dark mark above, Gwen closed her eyes in a form of mourning. She was not mourning the death of the fools but mourning Remus'. But she was also in shock. He had murdered the two without a second's hesitation and it almost brought on a bout of fear. She never thought he had it in him, hearing how much of a passive person he really was and etcetera. No matter, he would die soon enough, or maybe she would keep him as a pet and torture him for ages before granting eternal rest. Or maybe she wouldn't. The possibilities were endless but for right now the scheming redhead closed slender hands around her polished wand tucked on the inside of her sleeve. She was preparing her good girl stance to walk out and greet the man. As the rain continued the pour, damping her posh suit and wetting her long hair, she was a fiery beauty with an icy heart. The cold rain cooled the molten floor, allowing her heels to create a small tapping sound as she approached the man in a slow stride from behind her safe hiding place.

Gwen didn't think he had it in him -- neither did he. As he stood there, the rain falling heavily upon the area, he just watched the fallen man, as if trying to will him to get up again, feigning that it had hit him and just... playing dead. The werewolf didn't even know he could cast that spell anymore; yes, he had learnt it in his last year of training as an Auror, but he'd never actually used the spell before.

The rapid _click click_ of heels upon hardened ground finally pulled him back to the real world however, and he quickly looked away from the man to the approaching woman. As soon as he spotted her, her fiery red hair clicked in the image of another pureblood, Molly Weasley. "Oh Merlin..." Remus uttered sadly as his eyes fell from the approaching woman and to the even deeper crater once more. Molly had lost her husband today. All of their children were now without a father of whom they all loved. Why would the Death Eaters kill fellow purebloods, even if they were disliked? They should have kept him away from The Ministry today, and he should have been the one to die in his place. Remus' blood was certainly not pure. It didn't help matters much that he was a werewolf. It seemed like purebloods, half bloods, less-than-half-bloods, and muggles alike were out to fear him, torture him, and kill him.

She walked towards him, staring at his listless expression all the while. As she neared the death sight the dead body came into view, she actress curious. Then eyes dropped down to the dead man, she was skilled in hiding her small smile and glee. And in the midst of her act eyes examined the black cloak. One eyebrow cocked up before she turned to face Remus again. Walking around the body she came up to his side, he has grown shorter or perhaps it was just her choice of elevated footwear. "Hello Remus," she said solemnly, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder as if to comfort her former colleague. Eyes glanced at the body before them and in a soft voice, trained to keep the hint of joy out, she asked. "What happened here?" How ironic would it be were the raindrops to fall upon their worn faces and mimic the action of tears gliding slowly down their cheeks? She scoffed on the inside, never the one to shed tears, not even for the death of her father. They stood in silence for a good while, she still awaited his answer thought she knew it very well. They just stood there in the eerie silence letting the rain beat upon their hung shoulders.  
  
"It's obvious enough. They messed up, tried to clean the mistake by killing me, and failed miserably." The werewolf' listless expression soon shifted into a gloomy, and mildly sadistic smirk. "Pretty pathetic, huh? To think, two young people murdered by a tired old werewolf." Soon enough, however, the expression faded and he let out a heavy sigh. Today had been a long day; a day that he would never forget; a day that, in a way, would shape his perspective on things for a long while; he didn't know this at the time, but when one had lived a majority of their life alone and without a friend to speak to, self-reflection and nostalgia was common enough to have such a profound effect.

Remus fell silent again, feeling a light shiver run up his spine when he noted just how terrible he felt, mentally and physically. His eyes were burning because of the smoke, his heart was heavy at the thought of all who died that day, his lungs were burning, his mind was spinning, and he was tired -- he was a tired as he always was; it was a plague that never left him; it was something that he had lived with ever since he was seven years old. Thirty years. Thirty long years. Each feeling an eternity longer than the last.

"I was . . . I was held back by the muggles." a simple statement with no power to it whatsoever. It wouldn't bring the dead back to life, and it certainly wouldn't help Remus in any way but her inner actress made Gwen choke out those words in a small mouse like voice. "Come now, we have to get out of here. They . . . they said the ground was unstable and that it could collapse at certain spots. We're standing in the rain, we could catch pneumonia. We'll, we'll go back to my flat and I'll make up a nice cup of tea." What else could she say? She was not a compassionate person even though she could act it through facial expressions and in the tones of voice; words of compassion were never formed. Her one flaw as the suburb actress. The one reason during any disaster, her cover could be blown. Her hand gripped his shoulder slightly, he was still silent and didn't seem to comprehend her words. She breathed a sigh and looked down again at the floor and in the distance she listened to the rain batter the fallen buildings and hard floor. She could hear the distant shouts and orders and the gush of water on the places still raged with a burning fire. She could even feel the heavy footsteps on the floor, like a small earth quake she could feel the small vibration through her -- "Remus?" cutting her own train of thoughts, she acted as if his silent bout upset her, it didn't.

His silent bout didn't bother her, but her talking bothered him. At the moment, at least. Any other time, he'd love an excuse to just talk and to just forget about all the problems of the world. But now was not that time. Voldemort and Death Eaters had ruined, killed, or otherwise destroyed all of his friends. Today, they had killed hundreds of fellow Aurors. Dozens of friends. People he cared about. People who had families; husbands, wives, children, sisters, brothers, and other friends. All would be affected by this day. It was unacceptable. This time they had gone too far.

Thank goodness Harry was hidden and safe. Thank goodness they would never get their slimy hands on him. But, what would have happened to Harry had he been killed in this explosion? The last link to his past -- the friend of his parents, and his godfather. All of his old friends from Hogwarts seemed connected.. either through him, or the same spiral of death. "Hogwarts..." It finally came to him. How would the children at Hogwarts react to this news? How many of his former students had lost family and friends today? Who would be able to teach them how to defend themselves from this unstoppable enemy?

With that one muttered word a whole new perspective, one of many that had faced him in less than twenty minutes, came to him. Kingsley Shackebolt had mentioned to him a week ago that he was thinking of taking the Defense Against The Dark Arts position at Hogwarts, if Remus would not take it. Remus didn't want it then. Why would he want it now? Kingsley's attempts at persuading him to take the job ran through his mind, and the werewolf remained silent. He couldn't do it then. He could not do it now. He could protect those children from this threat anymore. And with Dumbledore gone, the school was a sitting duck that could not be protected by even the greatest of wizards. _If only Sirius was here... he'd know what to do. He could help all of those kids. James and Lily could too. I was never cut out for this kind of stuff..._

If only she could read minds or something, she could hear what thoughts were streaming through his mind. His face contorted in several expressions, none of which were exactly distinct and readable. She caught a word he muttered at least, Hogwarts? Why on earth would he mention the school? Of course he was offered the position of teaching once more but as far as Gwen heard more on the subject he had simply declined the offer. So what was he doing thinking about that godawful school now? She was curious, and shifted her body to look at him in the face. Yet another unreadable expression met her faux concern. Her hand still on high shoulder, she let go finally. It was no use anyways. There was nothing getting through to him now.

"Remus, look at me. We have to go. Now. There is a dead body beside us; if the muggles find us by this body they'll think you a murderer. Please, let's go." She doubted if her words had any meaning to him at all. He seemed so lost by the look of his eyes, so dulled and vacant, lost in a train of thoughts, thoughts she wanted to know. She hide her fury well, he was being stubborn again. Merlin! How can one mourn and mourn then kill two Death Eaters and mourn some more? He was like a vegetable, she had had enough already. "Remus!" she said in a louder, more commanding voice. She would get through to him in one way or another. "We have to go."

And the rain poured from above still, they were now drenched in water, cold to the bone. The smoke cleared up; there was almost none except for the thin barrier between them and the muggles on the other side. Behind him was the pit of hell, most likely still burning, burning bones to ashes. The floor was muddy with wet debris, blood and ashes mixed with the dirt and grim. It was dirty down there, dirty like the mudbloods and half-breeds. Wide eyed she attempted to look at him, if only she was strong enough, she could attempt to read his mind but alas, she could not. Lucky for Remus then.

He continued to listen silently for her pleads to leave. But Remus didn't care. He didn't care that he could sense the acted tone of her very voice, he didn't care that he knew her expressions and concern were faux. It was another blessing that a werewolf had; they could sense what others were feeling. But now, at this point in time, with the ashes of so many people swimming around in the air, settling upon the ground... he couldn't care less.  
  
"If you wish to run from this place, then go already and leave me alone." Remus' voice was cold, clear, and to the point; amber eyes finally lifting and glaring into Gwen's before falling to the dead man beside them. _I am just a simple murderer now. All I had to do was knock them both out. That's all it needed._ And that's all he thought about as he turned away from the red-haired woman and began to leave on his own accord, hoping that she would not follow him and would trek another route out of the crater.

So many dead. And he added to the numbers of the dead. Why? Why did he do that? Neither Sirius nor James would have done such a thing. Had all the years of anger, distress, and fear finally caught up on him? Had he sunk to such a level as to kill without a second thought? The rain fell, and Remus shivered. He would regret standing in the rain so long. He would regret having to tell Molly Weasley that her husband was dead. He already regretted being late this morning. And yet, the thought of Harry ran through his mind again, and he remembered how much fun his third year had been. Remus remembered how much of an honor it was to be the Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, even though it lasted so short a time.

Why was so much running through his mind? Why now? Why couldn't it just wait until later? That is, if he had a 'later' to wait until -- hopefully no other Death Eater would try to kill him that day.

She stood by a dead body, a sneer forming at Remus' retreating back. Nevertheless she could drop her act and as the form of the sorrow filled man disappeared into the smoke, it allowed her act like herself. His words ran through her mind once more. Never did she express wanting to run away from this place, her true nature would not to have left but to stand upon the land of the dead and mock the departed. A sour look on her face, she should have expected his brush off really. She never did take emotions into consideration; it must hurt a thousand times more, especially because it was the death of his beloved ones and what they stood for. That was the one thing Gwen was glad she was able to take away from him, and sooner or later, she would be able to away his life as well. Let him wallow in his self-pity, she thought, there was no use for her in the burning graveyard. In a small crack did she disapparate away...

**DISCLAIMER** – obviously we do not own Harry Potter and are not related to it in any way shape or form. This is simply for entertainment for the die-hard fans of Ms. J. K. Rowling.

- Anna


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